


The Zen Of Sam And Dean

by Merenwen76



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Sam, Alpha/Omega, Declarations Of Love, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Massage, Therapy, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, omega!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merenwen76/pseuds/Merenwen76
Summary: Sam and Dean are working undercover. In order not to attract attention, the two of them pretend to be a couple, who will soon perform their claiming ritual. But what is really behind this hippie group therapy that Sam has chosen?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 38
Kudos: 95
Collections: Supernatural Wincest And J2 ABO Fanworks Event





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DWImpala67](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DWImpala67/gifts).



> I was hoping that I could present this story to you completely. But I still don't seem to have fully processed the end of the series. I still find it hard to write about them and not burst into tears. So this story is my own therapy. 
> 
> Thanks to the mods of this event DWImplala67 and Kelios, for your patience and motivation.
> 
> My personal thanks to my two fantastic betas Firesign10 and Jerzcaligrl, without you, and your great support, this story would not have turned out as good as it is now.
> 
> And of course Theatregirl7299 for her feedback and motivation.

Dean can do this.

_He cut the head off a Knight of Hell. He sewed a wound on his thigh with a darning needle and half a bottle of Jack._

Dean sits cross-legged on the floor opposite his brother. The floor is padded by a soft, thick quilt. The room is warm and it smells like sandalwood.

_He can disassemble Baby's cylinder head gasket in under ten minutes; and eat four pieces of pie in under one minute._

Three other couples are in the room and they all look at Dean expectantly. Dean's eyes fix solely on his brother. The white tunic over Sam's tanned skin is deeply cut in the front, exposing his sculpted chest and the fine, dark chest hair. The thin fabric stretches tightly over Sam's broad shoulders. Sam's cheeks are dark red, and he avoids any eye contact. Dean pulls his shoulders back. He can do this.

_He killed Hitler, for crying out loud!_

Next to him, he hears Carrie's soft voice. "Dean, wouldn't you like to tell Sam how he can stimulate you better, what you want from him for example while you're in heat. What Sam should be more aware of when knotting you?"

_Nope, Dean can't do that!_

***

They spend their first two days in San Francisco sightseeing. At first, Dean is thrilled by the idea of seeing the city, even though they had to travel for three days to get there. But it also meant finally being on the road again; long straight roads, endless stretches, and the sea as their destination. 

"Dean, keep in mind we will be there for a case," Sam tries to remind him, but honestly he's only half listening. After three weeks without a case, Dean would follow the tracks of a freaking Yeti.

Sam arranged everything, booking them into the guesthouse and the different workshops. They would appear as participants and look around incognito. Again, Dean may have just half listened while Bon Jovi was playing on the track. And when Sam promised something about massages and food, how could Dean say no? The job sounded too tempting, and then there was the one thing Dean had always wanted to do.

Lombard Street. 

To drive down the famous winding street with Baby, lower the driver’s window, dangle his arm casually, and feel like a movie star. 

"Dean, are you sure you want to do this?" Sam asks again skeptically, but Dean just gives him a snide look. Sometimes Sam can be a real pain in the ass with his Alpha _I know everything better_ attitude.

The moment Dean steers the black Impala onto Lombard Street, he’s euphoric - almost electrified. But that changes abruptly when he realizes that a) at least twenty other cars had the same _fantastic_ idea at the same time as him, so now they are crawling down bumper to bumper, and b) that the 170-foot Chevrolet is really not designed for tight corners. 

Instead of nonchalantly dangling his arm, both of his hands stay tightly on the steering wheel. Every driver in front of him and _especially_ behind him can kiss his ass, and if Sam says one more word about the beautifully landscaped front yards on the houses they pass, the Alpha can get out of the car and take the stairs.

Dean will never attempt this white-knuckled perilous drive again. However, he's more than compensated afterwards. The Golden Gate Bridge keeps its promise and Baby clatters over the concrete slabs to the other side while he and Sam look up again and again, spellbound over the impressive construction. 

Dean steers the car up a hill to the left and parks Baby on the shoulder. They’re unbelievably lucky as Sam explains with joy; the fog is within limits and the bridge is visible in all its glory. Dean also smiles at the sight as he hears the warm voice of his brother next to him.

"I knew you would like it." Sam's dimples stand out and Dean loses himself for a moment in the sight. The sun is slowly fading away and the reddish-gold light turns Sam into a beautiful sight. He will never admit it out loud, but Dean's Omega can never get enough of this view of Sam. A little ashamed, he forces himself to look at the bridge again.

"We should drive back. I want to see the seals, and we have to check in at the guest house by nine o'clock." Sam says, and Dean nods in response. As if Dean could ever deny him anything.

They explore Fisherman's Wharf together, take a cable car ride, and reach the guesthouse a little outside of downtown around half past eight. 

In a city this big, Dean would never have expected such a quiet area. The houses stand separately amid a lot of greenery, the walls are colorfully painted, and each house appears to have been designed individually. 

"It's quite nice," Dean says, while they takes their duffel bags out of the trunk, "but somehow I had imagined a wellness hotel differently." 

"How did you come up with wellness?" Sam asks in an irritant voice, while taking the wooden stairs.

"I thought you said there were spa treatments and food and..."

Sam stops abruptly at the last step. "Dean, I was talking about _therapy_ treatments and whether you want to take the cooking class or autogenic training."

Dean's lips form a silent "oh" and his eyes flicker as he goes through the conversations of the last few days in his mind. Frustrated, Sam lifts an arm and gestures emphatically.

"Dude, I've told you everything about what they do here, and what I booked for you."

Dean purses his lips. "Was that while I was looking ahead to the road and occasionally humming approvingly?"

"Yes!"

"That's when I stopped listening to your boring monologue." Dean shrugs his shoulders and opens the door. 

Frustrated, Sam tears a hand through his hair. He was already nervous before the weekend, but now the entire thing threatens to become a fiasco. It was a stupid idea, he should have known. But now they are here and Sam is willing to make the best out of it.

The entrance area of the inn is warm and welcoming. There are two cozy sofas in the corner, with a table between them, covered with brochures. There is no real reception desk, just a dark brown, heavy, circular oak table with five chairs. The somewhat garish wallpaper is covered with hundreds of colorful flowers. Here and there the Greek sign for Alpha and Omega was embroidered. It reeks of Ylang Ylang.

A young couple cuddles up on one of the sofas; they are tightly wrapped and exclusively occupied with themselves.

"Welcome, dear ones." They hear the warm, hearty voice of a woman coming out of one of the rooms that branches off from the hallway. "I am Carrie."

Well, Carrie from San Francisco looks exactly how Dean imagines a Carrie from San Francisco would look. She seems to be in her forties, slim, with deep blue eyes. Her long blonde hair is slightly curly, her skin tanned. She wears blue jeans and a colorful tunic shirt. Beaming with joy she takes both men one after the other in her arms and hugs them heartily.

"Sam Campbell and Dean Winchester, how nice you both are here." Surprised, Dean also hugs Carrie and registers the smell of an Omega. "Over there are Sheila and her husband Greg. Jennifer and Devlin are already in their room. So are Kent and Dillan. We are a small group this weekend, so we will have the time to focus on each of you very intensely."

Dean isn't sure if it's the Ylang Ylang overdose, but he actually feels comfortable here. He is a bit irritated that Sam has changed his name, but he suspects that Sam has already given him the reason for this _important_ detail on the trip. 

"My Alpha Colleen is still on the road, but she'll be here on time tomorrow morning."  
She points to the table and all three take a seat. She hands Sam a form to fill out and her fine silver bracelets clatter on the table with every move.

"I'll give you your room keys right away. The guest rooms are on the upper floors. Breakfast is served on our terrace, where we all get to know each other, and then we do some warm-up exercises together.“ 

While Sam fills out the form, Carrie looks at them with a broad smile.

"I have to say I'm very happy that you want to prepare for your bond here. It's rare that we have couples who are not yet mated, as most of them would rather refresh their bond or work through the new experiences that come after claiming. I think it's really adorable that you both want to get involved with each other like this beforehand.“

Dean looks between Sam and Carrie, obviously irritated, which Carrie notices. "Dean, you really have nothing to worry about here. As I said it's a very small group and there are only eight of us total and all three Alphas are already paired. Even if they smell you, no one will come near you, no matter how intimate we get."

Sam swallows audibly, and Dean realizes that maybe he should have listened a little more to his brother. Still, he tries not to let on. "Thanks, Carrie, that's very reassuring. Me and my, uh, mate appreciate it." Dean pierces Sam with a glare, but the Alpha's gaze remains fixed on the form.

"You make such a wonderful couple. I could feel it the minute you walked in here that you're perfect for each other. When is it going to happen?" She asks casually.

"Uh, what?" Dean asks, but Sam answers in a quiet voice. "Three weeks from now, during the blood moon."

Carrie places her hand over her heart with emotion. "Oh my God, the lunar eclipse, how romantic. Dean, you're really lucky with your Alpha."

"Oh, yeah, I'm unbelievably lucky with him." Dean purrs in a slightly sarcastic undertone as Sam's cheeks turn red. He returns the completed form and Carrie gives them the keys.

"When you go upstairs, it's the second room on the left. All rooms have a master bedroom and an en-suite bathroom. Of course it has a large shower for two. The rooms are soundproofed, because after the therapy days it can get pretty rough," she winks. “But it is so important that you talk about your feelings or act them out. Please don't hold back. Behind the house is a lovely garden with a few benches. You can also retreat out there.“ 

Well, that could have been worse, thinks Dean as all three stand up.

"One more little thing. Wearing a collar is absolutely forbidden here, and the Alpha voice is never used.“ Sam nods approvingly. "We put out tunics for you to feel more comfortable on the first day, but by the second day we should trust each other enough to meet naked. If you feel like mating during the group session, you are welcome to give in to your urges. So that your knotting does not influence the other participants, please retire to your room or go deeper into the garden.“

Once again she hugs them both. "It will be such a beautiful experience for you," Carrie announces euphorically, and leaves the two brothers with mouths gaping.

•••

"Okay, say it." Dean throws his duffel bag on the king-sized bed and examines the also much too colorful wallpaper in the room.

"Why? You don't listen anyway." Sam replies pissed.

"Two suicides after spending the weekend here, both Alpha, both male. We are apparently posing as a couple who are about to make a final commitment over the next few weeks, while examining the premises for ghosts or other beings that might have haunted the Alphas.“ Dean looks triumphantly at his brother. 

"So, you do listen." Sam still seems a little tense.

"Did you ever think if it was simply because of the furnishings here?" Dean tries to loosen the mood as he looks at the batik lampshade on the bedside lamp. 

This elicits a smile from Sam. "The decor really is something..."

"Trashy?"

"Special." They both chuckle.

The room is spacious and the bathroom actually relatively large, yet Dean looks down on the king-size bed.

"I'll take the side by the door. Don't you dare come over to my side tonight with your cold, long stilts." 

Sam rolls his eyes and starts unpacking his clothes. There are two white tunics already hanging in the closet.

"Is this some kind of cult?" Dean asks and takes out one tunic.

"It's more like a workshop, in small groups. It's about being more responsive to the other person. Understanding your own needs as Alpha or Omega and communicating them to your partner. To get closer to each other, and in doing so, to find yourself again."

Dean holds the tunic to his body. "I know who I am, I don't need a hippie Omega and all this."

Sam pauses. "Are you sure? I sometimes get the impression that you, well, you'd rather not be an Omega."

"I don't know what you mean." Dean puts the tunic back in the closet and grabs his EMF.  
"I'm gonna look around a little bit." 

"Yeah, so much for that." Sam looks at the door his brother had just walked through. Would he find what he's looking for here? It felt right when he filled out the application, but now he's starting to have serious doubts. But he doesn't know what else to do. Sighing, he took his own measuring instruments and followed his brother out. 

The EMF shows no signs of ghost activity and the night itself is uneventful. Except that Dean repeatedly has to move Sam's limbs to his own half of the bed. Sam seems to automatically seek Dean's proximity in his sleep. And even though this was quite cute as a child - and a little voice in Dean still likes it now - Sam's body heat coupled with his octopus arms are just too much.

After they shower, they both put on their tunics and Dean can hardly stop teasing when he sees Sam. While his own tunic, of course, flatters Dean’s figure, Sam's is just too short and looks more like a nightshirt. But his laughter dies away when Sam opens the upper buttons, rolls the sleeves up, and reveals muscled arms and his wide chest. Sam's narrow hips and the endlessly long, tight legs do the rest. Damn, why does his brother have to look sexy in everything?

The two brothers descend the stairs and go outside to the big terrace. A set breakfast table is already waiting for them. Carrie is pouring orange juice and the brunette woman next to her seems to be Colleen. Sheila and Greg are already sitting at the table, but again they only have eyes for each other . 

The other couple introduces themselves as Kent and Dillan, and Dillan straightens his torso immediately as he notices Sam. Then he seems to smell Dean and looks irritatedly at Carrie. "I thought this was couples therapy, what's an unmated Omega doing here?" Kent puts his hand on his Alpha's thigh, but the complaining continues. "Are we supposed to be tested here or what?"

Dean notices how his fist forms, but Carrie walks right in between them. "Dean and Sam are in a relationship and are about to bond, and I think it's adorable that they want to take the time to share their needs." 

Dillan looks at Sam dismissively, but Sam holds his gaze. 

Silently, Sam and Dean pour coffee for themselves and Dean is reaching for a bagel when the last couple arrive and the male Alpha starts to rumble. 

"You can't be serious?!"

Dean prepares to speak his mind before the Alpha, as he looks at the couple who have arrived. Jennifer and Devlin both seem to be around fifty. Jennifer looks lovingly at her husband, who is smaller than her, and whose tunic stretches considerably under his belly. "It's enough that I have to wear this ridiculous potato sack here, and now I have to sit next to two super models?“

Carrie tries to be polite here, too. "Devlin, we are not all perfectly built, that's what we want to show here. We are equal before Mother Nature and just because our bodies have different biological functions, we are all human beings with the same need for love and security.“

Devlin rolls his eyes. "All equal my ass. Tell that to Adonis and Hercules here. The whole house smells as if Macy's perfume department had moved in, and this wallpaper is driving me crazy." 

Jennifer gives an embarrassed smile, and Sam smiles back sympathetically.  
Dean decides that he likes Devlin and bites into his bagel with a smile.

The couples have breakfast under watchful eyes while Colleen introduces herself to the group and explains the morning program. After a few stretching exercises in the garden, the couples are separated. The Alphas stay in the garden while the Omegas go to the spacious kitchen to prepare lunch and get to know each other a little better. Sheila snorts a bit about the clichéd distribution, but Colleen replies that all four Omegas have volunteered for the course, including herself.

Dean takes a quick look at Sam, who just shrugs his shoulders and puts on his _I asked you_ face.

A short time later Dean is in his element. To Hell with cliché, this kitchen is superbly equipped and Dean loves it. Cooking is a distraction from their daily routine; you have a list of ingredients, an instruction, a result. Plain and simple. It is exactly the kind of structure that Dean appreciates. And he is in charge of dessert, still his favorite course.

While Jennifer prepares the salad and Sheila is peeling potatoes, Kent chats with Carrie and tries to explain the breakfast altercation. "Dillan is a loving man. He just reacts quickly to others. That's why we want to try to reestablish our bond here and listen to each other more." Dean casually pats Kent on the shoulder to signal that he has already forgotten the conversation, and Kent is visibly relieved.

Carrie has brought the best ingredient of the morning. A light dry California white wine, with which she fills up their glasses generously again and again. 

"It's only morning after all," Jennifer carefully tosses in.

"It's just to test whether the wine will fit for lunch later," Carrie says in opposition to Jennifer`s objection.

An hour later the casserole is in the oven, the salad is complete , the Mousse Au Chocolate in the refrigerator, and the five Omegas are drunk at the kitchen table.

"I don't remember the last time I laughed so much." Jennifer wipes the tears from her eyes.  
"We're so broken in, you know. I love Devlin. He's a great Alpha, but sometimes I think it's just work and the kids and not us anymore."

Carrie nods understandingly. "It's important that you take time for yourselves with all your commitments.

"I just have to function. Everyone wants something from me."Jennifer sights. Lost in thought, she strokes her wine glass.

"I'm sure you're doing a wonderful job, but Jennifer, you're more. You're not just a housewife, mother, worker, and wife. You are also _you_ , Jennifer, the woman who sits here with me and has this adorable smile. And you can also take care of yourself without making all other tasks less important." Carrie strokes over Jennifer's hand as the woman wipes tears out of her eyes.

Sheila takes Jennifer in her arms. "I think you're adorable. I hope I can be such a great mother someday."

Carrie looks around before she turns to Dean.

"Did you and Sam talk about children?"

Dean takes a bigger sip of his wine to think of an answer.

"We, uh, work a lot. And I think... I think a child just doesn't fit into our world."

"Oh you say that now," laughs Jennifer. "Believe me, the first time you hold that little creature in your arms and look at it with confidence, everything else becomes a secondary matter. Nothing will ever be as important as this little person."

Dean smiles. If she only knew how right she was.

***

"Are you drunk?" asks Sam, amused, when he sees Dean again for lunch.

In fact, all five Omegas seem to have slightly pink cheeks.

"We were just testing if the wine would go with the food." Dean and Sheila giggle.

Sam grins widely and puts his arm around Dean's hip. "I'm glad to see you're having some fun," he whispers against Dean's hair and Dean is moved by the intimate touch.

Sure, they have to play the couple here, and it might be a little bit because of the alcohol, but Dean enjoys this short moment, leans his body against Sam's, and inhales the scent of his Alpha. _His?_

Quickly he pulled himself away from the hug and Sam cleared his throat, embarrassed.

"How was it with you?" he asks to distract, and Sam tries desperately to suppress a laugh.

"The topic was _the Possessive Alpha_. When is it good, when is it bad, and when is it against the law. It's not about winning, it’s about respect."

"So?" asks Dean with a raised eyebrow.

Sam whispers a little quieter. "I won."

Both look at each other mischievously for a moment, and there's that feeling again that takes Dean by surprise. Their gaze lingers for a moment too long and Colleen sighs. 

"Wow, you two certainly have an effect on each other, it's like you are really soulmates."

Sam's cheeks turn red and he looks, embarrassed, at the floor.

After dinner, they both retire to their room. Sam reassures Dean that he tried to ask Colleen about the suicides but she blocked. Dean says that he couldn't find a way to talk to Carrie alone.

They decide to look around the office in the evening, when everyone has retired, to search for clues.

And so they find themselves together in the therapy room in the afternoon. Cozy blankets and pillows are spread all over the floor. They sit down in their pairs and Colleen explains to them how important it is to listen to each other and be open with each other.

"Sounds just like us, doesn't it?" whisperers Dean, and Sam laugh softly. 

"Oh yeah, we're good at talking about feelings," Sam replies loud enough for Carrie to hear him.

"Very charming, Sam! Why don't you both get us started?"

Dean throws a piercing side glance at Sam who swallows audibly. 

Cross-legged, they turn to face each other, their knees touching. Dean feels the warmth coming from Sam and notices the fine sweat building up on Sam's chest.

"Take each other's hands and look at each other."

Dean's hands are soft. Sam is always fascinated how Dean can keep such soft hands with everything they did. After a hesitant moment, their eyes find each other. Dean's eyes are like two hypnotic gems. Anyone who looked into them was magically attracted. The long, sweeping lashes surrounded the entire eyelid. His brother is beautiful. 

"Sam, I want you to look inside yourself and tell your mate what you like about him, what you admire about him, and what you find attractive about him." 

Sam looks helplessly over at Carrie for a moment, then clears his throat and licks his bottom lip.

"I... I like your eyes. I think it's actually the first thing I remember. Think you are the most beautiful person I ever met, but I think your eyes were the first thing I really saw clearly." Sam is aware that he has to watch his words, but he tries to be as honest as possible. This is important. "I like your humor, admittedly not in every situation, but you always make me laugh when you realize I'm not feeling well. It's like you can feel it from a distance. I admire... " Sam stutters a little. "I actually admire everything about you. I once secretly tried to talk like you all day long, to walk like you, just because it made me feel stronger. You never backed off, always with your head in front, if someone was crooked because you are _only_ an Omega, you quickly showed them that you are more than your were gender. You were always there for me, and I ..." Sam loses eye contact for a moment, but then he pulls himself together, "I can't imagine anyone else I would rather be with." 

The room is quiet. Dean looks at Sam with big eyes. He is about to say something back when Devlin interrupts them loudly. "Oh, great! As if any of us can top that now."

A laugh ripples across the room, and Dean joins in. "Wow, Sammy, for a second there, I almost believed you," he whispers to his brother.

Sam smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, I almost did too, "he says quietly to himself.

Carrie looks over at them both. "Sam, that was so nice. Thank you for opening up to your mate like that. Dean, you want to say something to your Alpha, too?"

"I'm not really good with words." Dean tries to weasel his way out with a charming smile.

"Don't worry, it's not about doing anything special. There's no wrong answer or wrong words. It's about letting the other person know what you like about them. Just try it." She smiles at him encouragingly and lies down by Colleen's side.

"Okay. Here we go." Dean looks at Sam's hands that still clasp his. He feels Sam's pulse beat on his wrist, beating just as fast as his own. "I like... I think... well, I like your laugh." Dean glances up at Sam's face for a moment and then drops his eyes again. "It's... it's... it's always good to hear. I think the reason I make you laugh a lot is because I just love hearing and seeing it." Dean shrugs with embarrassment, then looks up at Sam. "I like your empathy. That you see light where I often can't. That you've never made me feel less than I deserve. You and me, or neither of us." Dean presses his lips together briefly before continuing. "I admire your strength, and your stubbornness. You are one of the strongest Alphas I have ever seen, without you ever putting it on display. I admire... I just admire you."

Sam's gaze almost pierces him. Never before has Dean torn down so many bricks around himself, he feels vulnerable and as if Sam can see everything, all the thoughts, wishes, feelings that are buried so deeply. 

"Oh, screw you."

"Devlin!" Jennifer screams in horror, but the whole room bursts into laughter and the tense atmosphere loosens.

"Thank you both. That was really very nice to watch. Now I want you to thank each other for your openness.“ The two brothers smile at each other with embarrassment and thank each other. "And now finally, release yourselves and kiss each other. I can smell your excitement all the way over here."

"What? I mean, this is... in front of everybody..." Dean stammers a little, but Carrie just laughs.

"Come on, Dean, you don't have to hold back now."

Sam shrugs his shoulders, bows his head a little. It's just a quick kiss, Dean thinks, and also bends over to press his lips briefly onto Sam's. But in the moment when their lips touch, time seems to stand still. Sam's lips are warm and soft, they shouldn't be that soft. Through his nose, Dean inhales Sam's scent, sandalwood, lemon, and mahogany. Their lips are still pressing against each other, neither wants to stop, but both are afraid to go on. Finally Dean releases himself from the kiss and also lets go of Sam's hands. They both still breathe each other's closeness, unable to look each other in the eyes, afraid of what they might find inside.

"Just lean on each other and listen to the rest."

Sam lies back on his pillow, carefully pulling Dean into his arms and Dean gives in. It's unusual to lie in Sam's arms, it was almost always the other way around. But here and now Dean closes his eyes. He feels Sam close to him. Feel how Sam's chest rises and falls under him with every breath. His eyes become heavy and he surrenders to this feeling. Surrounded by Sam, safe in his arms, and for the first time he feels his Omega at peace. 

He hardly follows the other conversations, he is too busy enjoying what he will never have again. For this moment here, he is simply an Omega with his Alpha surrounding him. 

At some point, Carrie's soft voice sounds louder in the room again.

"That was a wonderful first round. You are such a magical open group that I would like to start a second round today. It's important that we not only know what we value in each other, but that we also value in ourselves. Please sit opposite each other again."

After the couples have returned to their original positions, she looks at Dean expectantly.

"I want each of you to take a moment to gather yourselves, and then I want you to tell your partner what you like best when you are intimate. What does your partner do well, what would you wish for him to do better. Dean, would you like to tell Sam how he makes you happy during sex and what he could do better?

_Nope. He can’t do this._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good News: Finally an update 😅  
> Bad News : There will be one more chapter.
> 
> Hope you will all still enjoy it❤️

_Think, Dean._

The space around him and Sam seems to grow smaller and smaller, and he feels warmth spreading across his cheeks. Dean is sittingacross from Sam, and now he’s supposed to explain to complete strangers how the -non-existent- sex is between him and his brother.

"We...well, we..." Dean clears his throat sheepishly, his eyes helplessly searching Sam's. 

"We haven't really..." Sam attempts to save the situation, but even he falters.

Dean has no problem talking about sex. Hell, sex is often the only outlet he has left when he's on an adrenaline high. When the post-monster hunt rush is still in every pore, and the tension won't go away. Especially when things get dicey, when their lives are on the line, Dean's only way to come down from this high is to go to a pub, down the first cold beer pulled from the keg, and hunt for immediate prey. A beta, anonymous and willing, full of curiosity about how it is to love, and especially _to be_ loved by an omega. So no, Dean has never had a problem when it comes to sex, exxcept there are things he might not want to share with the whole goddamnworld, - or with his brother.

Because the truth... the truth would be to give in to a desire which is not meant to be, which cannot be. Whether Dean is a freak of nature, or it was simply the circumstances whereDean had held an infant in his arms at the age of four, he’d already felt, at that moment, how different their relationship will be. How that whatever happens, nothing will ever separate their bond again.

Sam is still searching for the right words when Dean announces, "We haven't had sex yet. So, of course, we know to excite each other, to push the right buttons and to make the other explode. Believe me, we know every nook and cranny of each other's bodies, but the climax, the joining, the merging of our bodies, we're saving that for the blood moon, aren't we Sammy?"Dean is sure he has never said the word "Sammy" so sensually. And with a little satisfaction he realizes that his words have not remained without consequences for the tall Alpha, who desperately tries to hide the blatant swelling between his legs. Sam's pupils are slightly dilated, and a delicate red circle forms around them. The Alpha in him is hungry and Dean's Omega shouldn't react that way. 

Then Sam's lips spread into a smile, and he tilts his head slightly and has this, _Really, Dean?_ expression on his face. Dean’s wary now--he knows Sam is about to call his bluff.

"He's right." Sam clears his throat after realizing his voice is a little thick. "We decided to hold off on the knotting until I claim him." Dean gulps at the words, and of course his brother can't just stop and shut up here. "And it's taking all the strength I possess, believe me. Just thinking about how it's going to feel to finally take _my_ Omega all the way, to stimulate and pleasure him, to claim him and join him for good. To feel my knot tying us as my teeth pierce his soft, tender flesh, making our mating complete. To hear him coming apart underneath me, sweating and moaning, with my name on his lips."

Dean's eyes gleam green-gold with excitement. And he will deny for the rest of his life the whimper that has just left his throat . Sam's gaze unabashedly wanders between Dean's open legs, and the little bastard grins smugly with satisfaction as Dean's tunic bulges suspiciously as well. 

Sheila and Greg spontaneously leave the room and the others also seem slightly aroused, judging by (what?). 

Devlin opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Jennifer grabs him by the collar of his tunic and hisses "Devlin, I swear, if you mess up this moment now, I'll invite my Mum over for Christmas."

Devlin closes his mouth in a flash and pulls his partner into his arms.

***

After the session, the couples go back to their rooms while Carrie and Colleen prepare the garden for the barbecue. 

Dean takes a very long shower, and when he steps out of the foggy bathroom into the bedroom, Sam surprises him with copies of the Information sheet from the two deceased Alphas. Sam _borrowed_ them from Colleen's office.   
Dean wraps the towel tightly around his waist and sits down on the edge of the bed. But just a glance at the records tells Dean that's a dead end, too.

"No comments, no reports on the content of the therapies, just the names, arrival days, and credit card information. That doesn't get us anywhere." Frustrated, Dean slams the files shut, massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "No trace of spirit activity, no sulfur or other residue. None of the guests or Carrie reacted to the silver knife I used in the kitchen." Dean summarizes, looking at Sam. Sam jerkily lifts his gaze from Dean's torso and paces the room like a caught dog. 

"The background checks on the two Alphas show no connection. Both were friendly and unremarkable according to Colleen, and she and the other Alphas touched the silver ring I presented as your claiming gift without hesitation." Sam continued pacing as he spoke.

Dean looks up in surprise. "You have a ring for me?

Sam talks on, unperturbed. "Maybe there really is nothing here, and I've made a mistake."

"You have a ring for me?" Dean asks again, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"It's just a silver ring I made, okay?" Sam snaps.

"Oh Sammy, you didn't have to do that." Dean bats his eyelashes.

"Fuck you! Is everything always a joke with you?" Sam angrily picks up his duffel bag and walks into the bathroom with it, slamming the door hard behind him. 

Irritated, Dean flinches at the loud bang. My goodness, sometimes his brother was touchy.  
Dean hears the water in the shower turn on and looks at the two files again. Something is wrong here, he can feel it, and while his hunter's instincts kick into high gear, he just can't put his finger on it. 

***

The second evening also passes quietly. Meanwhile, both brothers have gotten used to the tunics, and Dean never tires of touting the advantages of the wide open fabric, which only earns him another eye roll from Sam. 

The barbecue is more than pleasant. The food is delicious--wings, burgers, and enough vegetables to make Sam happy. Dean is getting a taste for California wine, and definitely plans to take Sam on a side trip to Napa Valley when they leave here.

The thought of still gives Dean a bit of a headache, though. It's Saturday night, the seminar only goes until tomorrow. Although they have rooms booked until Monday morning, it seems almost impossible for them, being within such a small group, to look at all the other rooms without being noticed.

All the Alphas seem relaxed around Dean now, with no trace of any change in character. Even Dillan seems to have made his peace with the idea that Sam is no threat to him, yet Dean can't help but notice that both Alphas are always trying to stand a little taller in each other's presence.Tsk, Alpha Dickheads. 

Despite the fact that the sun is already setting red and large, a pleasant warm wind is blowing. Dean strolls over to the mountains of cushions scattered around the garden and settles down. With legs crossed, he leans against a large red seat cushion and takes a sip of the semi-dry Chardonnay. 

He lets his gaze wander over the grass, over the small hedge that serves more as a boundary point than anything else, and looks out over the city beyond. San Francisco seems to lie in a valley from here. Fog covers the entire bay and leaves the sea behind only a guess. 

"Remember how you used to rave about going to the ocean?" Sam's honey smooth voice sounds above him, and Dean puts his head on the pillow to look up. 

“I meant, rather, turquoise sea, white sand between our toes, and a cocktail in a coconut. A _real_ coconut and not one of those plastic things.“

Dean's face, illuminated by the setting sun, looks as if kissed by the muse herself. His green eyes gleam in contrast to the reddish-yellow dusk, and the freckles on his cheeks look like cinnamon dust. Only with difficulty can Sam take his eyes off him before he settles down next to his brother. Dean slides over a little to make room for Sam, feeling his brother's warm body through the two thin layers of their tunics. The alcohol makes his senses even more receptive to Sam's Alpha, and more than once Dean considers getting up to get away from the intoxicating scent of his Alpha, err brother. But the moment is too perfect, and too rare, and Dean is too selfish to interrupt it. 

"Maybe we could really do it this time? Instead of always dreaming about it?" Sam says, while they both stare at the sky.

Dean feels the wind on his skin, goosebumps cover his body. What _is_ Dean dreaming about? Sand and a green cooler full of beer? Surely. But he also realizes that there is always another figure painted in this perfect picture. He shivers slightly and seconds later Sam puts his arm around him. The warmth of his brother surrounds him, and for the second time that day he closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of closeness and security. 

"We could go to Bakers Beach on Monday, take off our shoes and socks and make it happen?" Sam's voice is close to Dean's ear, and his brother's warm breath on his sensitive skin almost makes him do something stupid. Like turning his head to the side and kissing him. Dean's well-used defense mechanism quickly kicks in. 

"You're just trying to break me down so I'll take that stupid boat ride to Alcatraz with you." 

Sam sighs softly. "What would be so bad about a trip? It's one of the most famous destinations here!"

"Come on, we both know you don't want to go there for the architecture. You and your crazy serial killer fetish." Sam moves away a bit and Dean should feel good about that, _right_? 

"So what? I'd just like to see it while we're here. Who knows when we'll ever get back this way?" Sam smooths the fabric of his tunic and Dean knows his brother's pouty expression all too well. 

"But we'll go to the ice cream museum afterward, and I don't want to hear a word you say about it not being a _real museum_." Dean genuinely emphasizes the word as if it were an insult and Sam rolls his eyes. But he stifles a comment.

"Deal." 

They both grin at each other, like when they were hiding from John after being given a whole bag of gum from an old lady at a motel in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. WhenJohn called out to them, they hastily stuffed so many Bazooka Joes into their mouths they could barely chew. Their arms were full of blue and pink tattoos, and Dean scrubbed Sam almost to death in the shower that night, afraid of what his father would do to him if he saw the colorful images on Sam's body. 

They were like peas and carrots, an inseparable team. Until Sam, at the age of 15, suddenly presented as an Alpha . From then on, it was nothing but clashes and battles between him and John, until one day there were so many broken pieces on the floor that even Dean could no longer stick them back together. 

Dean shakes his head as if trying to chase the thoughts out of his head, and Sam looks at him questioningly. With one pull Dean empties his glass and tries to change the unspoken topic.

"These are some interesting couples here. And I always thought we were strange."

"Agreed. Looking at the others, we're not so crazy after all, are we?" Sam's deep laugh infects Dean.

"With all we've been through, you'd think couples therapy was the last thing we needed," Dean jokes, but his laugh seems a little more fake than before.

"We've had our moments." Sam whispers, his gaze fixed on his knees. Dean nods, understanding, while memories drift past him like the fog across the bay. They sit in silence for a while, shoulder to shoulder, leaning on each other, watching the sun slowly sink.

Behind them Colleen has lit the small fire bowl and Carrie plays the guitar. Dean looks over at the small group. "Oh my God, they really pull out all the stops for summer camp, don't they?"

"Like we've ever been to one." says Sam, and Dean blames it on the alcohol as he suddenly stands up, reaches out to Sam and says

"I smell marshmallows. Come on, Camp Boy, in for a penny, in for a pound:"

***

The next morning presents Dean with déjà vu.

Again he is trapped in Sam's arms and legs, and it doesn't help that his brother has buried his head in Dean's neck. Warm breath brushes over his skin and Sam's hair tickles his face. 

Nature does the rest, and Dean tries to turn slightly to the side to hide the telltale morning wood.

Not that something pretty obvious isn't pressing against his leg as well. 

The more Dean tries to move away, the more Sam pulls him in and _damn_ his brother smells so tempting and familiar, so what if Dean turns to him - just a little, gives in just for a moment and lets his lips caress Sam's forehead… "Okay Sasquatch, move, this is really unbearable."

A grumble sounds next to him and Sam turns away, and it's definitely only the warmth Dean misses instantly. 

Dean spins out of bed, pausing on the edge of it for a moment, before rising with an exaggerated groan. _Fuck_ how much wine had he drunk?

"You? Definitely too much." Sam mumbles into his pillow and Dean realizes he was thinking out loud.

"Aren't you supposed to be the early riser of the two of us?" Dean snarks.

"That was before the Merlot was opened!"

Dean lets his gaze wander around the vintage room and thinks about why they are actually here. "I think the only thing that's _unnatural_ here, is the high consumption of alcohol," Dean notes, yawning loudly as he stretches his limbs. 

"You're complaining about alcohol? Who are you, and what have you done with Dean?" Sam's face rises slightly from the pillow. His hair is disheveled and his eyes sleepy, and Dean can't help but smile at the sight of Sam's hungover look . 

"Would you like to test me? Silver, holy water, what would you like to try?"

"Is coffee and going back to sleep a choice?"

"Nope."

"I hate you."

"Then wait until I show you the video where you and Greg performed Sweet Home Alabama."

"You didn't."

"Oh, but the best part is the solo interlude of 'First Cut is the Deepest'. I mean, hey, I know about your Celine Dion kink, but seriously, Sheryl Crow?"

"You didn't record that! Dean?"

Triumphantly, Dean holds up the cell phone to turn around in a flash and sprint toward the bathroom as a 6'4” raging bull runs after him.

Later, Dean deletes both videos in front of his brother's watchful eyes (he had already emailed copies to himself anyway). Sam thanks him by reminding him in time to leave the tunics on for breakfast, and only take them off completely in the therapy room. _In time_ means on the way to the breakfast room, and Dean will deny for the rest of his life the squeal that left his mouth while he ran back to the room butt-naked.

Eventually everyone finds themselves back in the pleasantly warm therapy room. The pillows and blankets have been moved to the side, and in their place four massage beds are ready. 

"The most important thing we can do in our relationship is to take time for each other. This means that we give attention, either by listening or by doing something good for the other. We'll get to the former this afternoon, here and now it's about paying attention to each other's bodies."

Carrie spreads fluffy blankets over the massage couches. Then she fetches a bowl containing small vials of various oils. 

"Please decide which one of you will lie down first."

Both brothers look at each other briefly, then Dean shrugs, takes off his tunic, and lies down on his stomach on the massage bed. The blanket is warm and almost too cozy for Dean's taste. 

Motels aren't known for high-quality linens, and even in the bunker, utility trumps comfort. He folds his arms under his head and Colleen tucks the blanket around him until he is lying in a warm cocoon.

The whole arrangement is suspect to Dean. They're here for a job, not to be rolled in like a roulade. Then there's that music playing softly in the background. Some psychedelic-y new age crap. Zeppelin or CCCR is wonderful for relaxing, but this? Dean presses his face through the opening in the couch, and grunts deprecatingly. What's so relaxing about that? They should have gone to the mortician first, asked about the autopsy and cause of death. Why didn't Sam suggest that, he's usually so stringent. The voices above him blur into a murmur. Cool air reaches his back, but his buttocks remain covered. That's all he needed. Literally freezing his ass off here. Where had he stopped? Oh yes, the autopsy. Forcibly inflicted marks, or possibly missing organs, traces of bites or.... _oh my God_. Dean opens his eyes, only now noticing that he had closed them. Warm hands wander over his back, spreading an oil that smells of wood and rose petals. Damn, was he purring? He lifts his head slightly, but a strong, warm hand pushes his shoulders down.

"Relax." Sam's deep voice comes through Dean's ears, straight into his cock. Fuck.

"Just do it sensibly," he murmurs to somehow save the situation, but Sam seems to ignore his complaint. 

"Since you didn't say anything I decided to use this oil, I hope it's okay? Is the heat pleasant? The pressure okay?"

"Oh Sammy, if you want to play my masseuse you should get smaller, finer hands, and I sure hope the happy ending is included in the price here." Dean has barely finished speaking, when he feels Sam's hands tense. Crap, he's lying belly down, and yet in his mind's eye he can see Sam's expression, like a beaten dog who doesn't know what he's done wrong.

Sam's fingers still make contact with Dean's back, and Dean tries to lighten the mood again.

"Hey, Sasquatch, come on, I didn't mean it. See if you can loosen some of those knots."

Slowly, Sam's fingers start moving over Dean's body again and this time Dean pays attention.

Dean closes his eyes, feeling Sam spreading the warm oil all over his back. Sam's fingers seem to glide over his skin, and Dean's Muscles relax, warmth flowing through his entire body. Gentle pressure glides along his spine, and his body becomes heavy, his arms limp. Sam seems to be everywhere;the delicate scent of rose oil coupled with Sam's sandalwood scent fog Dean's senses,while the music acts like a cloud carrying him away. Dean lets himself fall into Sam's arms that caress him, massage him, don't let go. Never letting go again. 

Fingertips circle the small of his back, carefully feeling their way lower, stroking the mound of his buttocks. Dean's lips open, invisible to anyone else. He feels his body responding to Sam, getting hard, sliding a little over the soft towel. Sam's palms are on his thigh now, moving down, circling, pressing, asking, and Dean answers by spreading his legs slightly. Sam knows almost every spot on Dean's body--there’s hardly an area that didn't need to be rubbed with ointment at least once. It was methodical, expedient, helpful. This one is intimate and sensual, and Dean can't stop responding even if he had to. 

Sam's fingers clasp his calf, an innocuous gesture but Dean's skin burns under Sam's hands. He can no longer suppress a low moan, hoping it will be attributed to the massage. His cock is hard, he feels precome wetting his belly, and hopes the little piece of fabric on his butt won't reveal his secret. 

Not a word passes Sam's lips, but his hands tell a story, painting a picture on Dean's skin. A picture of desire and longing, and never in his life has Dean wished more that those big hands would venture further, would conquer the only area of Dean's body that has been forbidden to them so far. Again, Sam's hands find themselves on his back, still oiled. They are large and strong, his palms covering Dean's entire waist. As he slowly runs his hands up and down Dean's back, a deep moan escapes Dean's lips. Sam's fingers grip his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles, and Dean's body follows Sam's command. 

As a single hand massages Dean's neck, Sam stands at shoulder level beside him. Dean feels the heat of his brother, the closeness of his body, and a desire in Dean that was never gone, just buried deep under shame and fear. 

Dean's arms grow even heavier and he feels as if he is sinking deeper into the protective blanket. His mind is empty, he is only a mixture of Sam's warmth, sandalwood, and singing bowls. 

Something warm is put around him but he does not react. His body is tucked up tightly. Sam is close, he whispers something in Dean's ear, but words have no meaning. He feels some lips on his cheeks, music carries him to a safe place, and around him is Sam's smell and warmth. Dean does not know where he is and it does not matter.  
He is safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story so far. If so, please be so kind and let me know. Your kudos and comments are my motivation. I thank you ❤️.


End file.
